Trista’s story
by SherlockFox
Summary: There was a servent named Trista. She tan away with her brother, but he was killed. Then she met a man, Rumplestiltskin. He takes her in and her exisyance may affect everything.
1. chapter 1

Okay so I just started watching Once Upin a Time and I'm on Season 3 (almost four) So I'm going to start the story to take place before the curse/ season one and it will basically add more as I watch more. But since I'm starting from the beginning, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. This chapter will basically be most of my characters main backstory, and next we will start with how she might have affected the episodes. Enjoy!

Lyric:

They are the hunters

We are the foxes

And we run

-Taylor Swift "I Know Places"

I remember before everything fell apart. I had found death frightening, a threat that always followed someone until they were taken away by its sharp claws. Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to live as long as I could with my family. To be free from that fear.

But now, I would welcome death with open arms and a smile. Now, death is a mercy. An escape. Because sometimes to survive, you've got to die.

I ran with my cloak waving behind me through the woods. Chase ran besides me, his face hooded like mine. I could hear the storming of hooves behind us, the soldiers were pursuing us. I pulled my hood closer around my head. If they saw my face, I could jeopardize Chase's safety.

"Come on! This way!" Chase yelled, turning into a particularly thick part of the woods. I followed behind him, pushing my legs to run as fast as I could. Not an easy task when you've been starved for the last past three years. We twisted and turned through the trees. It was a particularly dark night, and that was what we had hoped for. But the Soldiers had gotten off their horses and were trying to track us through the bushes and bramble. Chase pushed me behind a bush and we crouched, hiding.

"Trista, I need you to stay here while I distract them," he whispered to me, his lighting blue eyes looking into mine. I felt tears fill my eyes.

"No, I can't leave you," I whispered back.

"I'll find you, I promise. I'll come back," he said. Tears rolled down my cheek.

"How can you be sure? Oh my gosh, Chase, please. I can't- I can't loose you to," I choked on my words. Chase was the only one left that I loved. I closed my eyes tight. I felt Chase's hand on my cheek.

"I have faith. Please, no matter what you hear, or what you see, do not come after me," he said. I nodded. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his dagger. He shoved it into my hands. I shook my head in horror.

"No. No. You need this," I begged but he would not take it back. He hugged me.

"I love you, My dear sister," he said, and turned and ran from behind the bush. I clutched the dagger as tears fell like a waterfall down my face.

"I love you too," I whispered. I lost sight of Chase, but I could still hear him.

"Come on! Come and get me ya ugly-" I heard he yell but he was interrupted by an unmistakable thump of an arrow. Then Chase was silent. I twisted myself around to see my beautiful big brother, Chase, lying in the ground at least twenty five yards away from me. And there was a arrow in his chest.

"No!" I screamed. The guards all turned around and saw me. I turned and ran. I was thin enough to fit in between trees and bushes, though I was extremely tall. I sobbed the whole time I ran, blurring my vision but I kept running.

Then, somehow, I came to a stone wall. I looked around and realized it must have been the walls around a city or something. I spun around, looking for a place to run but there wasn't one. I could hear soldiers coming from all around me. This was it. They would find me in seconds, and I was as good as dead.

"Having a bit of trouble here, aren't we dearie?" A strong Scottish accented voice said behind me. I spun around to see a man standing a few feet away behind me.

He wore old clothes and held a cane. He looked about an inch shorter than me, but that didn't say much taking in account that I was 5"10 and taller than most of the men I had met. His hair was messy and unkept. Basically, he looked like most of the other villagers in almost all the city's she had been to. He was perhaps on his thirties.

I pulled out the dagger and held it in front if me.

He looked at me again, as if he didn't know what to make of me.

I stared him in the eyes. Then I made a choice. Throwing down the dagger, I pulled down my hood and stood there.

"Well then, get on with it," I snapped.

"With what, dearie?" The man asked, looking serious.

"Kill me. The soldiers are going to be here soon and I'd rather die here than be captured and killed publicly. So do the job and kill me," I said, not looking away. The man laughed, almost sadly.

"Kill you? Why on earth would I do that?" He asked, smiling at me.

I blinked in surprise. The man looked around. The soldiers were coming closer, I could hear the loud clang of their amour. I picked up the dagger again.

The man came over and pulled me to the side of the wall. He knocked on it five times, and suddenly the wall opened. I gasped and he pulled me through. It lead into a village with little shacks lining the edges. Up ahead there was a hill with a few more houses.

"Who conducts the magic for the wall?" I asked in wonderment. The man shook his head.

"The soldiers had a wizard who enchants the village with a wall. 'To protect us from the outside' is what they say," the look he gave me told me that that was not at all what it was used for.

"I'm technically not supposed to know how to get in or out," he continued, "But I overheard a soldier a few months back."

I nodded. This man seemed to have a distain for the soldiers, which was helpful since I needed to escape from exactly them. But still, I couldn't be too sure.

"What's your name?" I asked. The man gave me a sideways glance.

"What's yours?" He asked, not answering my question.

"I asked first," I responded indifferently. The man chuckled and shrugged.

"Rumplestiltskin," he answered. I was surprised.

"Are you the man who..." I broke off, not wanted to embarrass him. The man, Rumplestiltskin smiled knowingly.

"Ran away from the war?" he asked, "Yes, I'm afraid that that was me."

I nodded, not wanting to engage the conversation. I looked around some more.

"You never told me your name, dearie," he said. I hesitated.

"Come on," he said, "if I was going to turn you in, I would have done it before we passed through the wall."

I sighed. It was out of my comfort zone to talk about myself, but he made a fair point. "My name is Trista." I said. Rumplestiltskin nodded.

"Well, lovely to meet you, Trista," he said. "Come, my cottage is just up that way."

He started walking up the hill. I was shocked. I was supposed to come with him? Isn't he know how much that would danger himself?

"Listen," I said, following him, "I really appreciate what you've done for me, but I must insist that having me at your house would indanger you greatly. It's probably best if-"

"They won't find you here. This is a different kingdom, and they wouldn't fancy a visit here. Besides, how long are they going to find it worth it to search for a-" then he stopped and looked me right in the eye, as if he had just realized something. "Why were you running away?"

"I was sold into slavery by my parents," I said. He already knew my name, and I saw no point in concealing anymore details.

Rumplestiltskin looked at me with pitiful eyes, which made me flinch. I didn't like pity. He looked at me for a minute more, then seemed to make up his mind.

"Just think about it. Stay for the night, and we will decide in the morning," he said finally. I agreed. We made out us the hill to a small cottage.

"How old are you, Trista?" He asked me.

"Fourteen," I answered. He looked surprised for a moment. I was, as I said, very tall. We were quiet for a moment. Then he spoke.

"Well, we're here," he said. We were at the cottage. Then, a boy came out. He was a bit short with black hair that went past his ears. His eyes were dark and sad.

"Papa? Who's she?" he asked, looking at me. I tried to smile but I honestly probably looked frightening. I was skinny, pale, and filthy.

"Trista, this is my son Bealfire. Bealfire, this is Trista. She's going to to be staying with us for a while," he said. The boy, Bealfire, looked at me suspiciously.

"Hi," I said, trying very hard to look friendly. Honestly, I didn't blame him for being suspicious, and I wanted him to know I didn't mean harm.

"Hi. You can call me Bea," he said after a few moments. Rumplestiltskin let out a small smile.

"Well then," he said, "let's head inside."


	2. Chapter two

So I'm not going to go through every episode because that would take forever, but I do hope you guys are enjoying my work.


	3. The real Chapter 2

So I'm not going to go through every episode because that would take forever, but I do hope you guys are enjoying my work.

I'm talking loud

Not saying much

-Titanium

I peered passed the building to the buggy driving by. A visitor? In Storybrooke? Unheard of. The buggy stopped in front of Granny's and a blonde woman came out, followed by Henry.

What is that boy up to? I wondered. I considered the car for a moment, then snuck over to the car. Luckily, it was unlocked. I opened the door and quickly grabbed the first thing I saw, which happened to be her wallet, and ran.

The woman must have heard me because I heard her yell 'Hey!" and footsteps chasing me. I figured that my long legs would allow me to out run her, but if she caught me, I don't think I would be able to get away. Or even speak in my defense either. I quickly opened the wallet as I ran, pulled out a ten dollar bill, and threw the rest of the wallet away behind me. Then I dead sprinted until I made it to my ally. I stopped running and turned around. The woman had stopped chasing me. If I could have laughed I would have. Ten dollars wasn't much, but it was enough to buy a sandwich from Granny's. Usually Ruby would sneak out back and give me leftovers. I liked Ruby. She was cool about my, ah, vocal issues. Plus she never snitched and told Sheriff Graham or Mayor Mills where I was.

I had no clue what Mayor Mills had out for me. But whenever her or the sheriff saw me, they went out of there way to catch me, though I usually out-witted them. I was afraid that they would send me to a orphanage or something, and I know I'm never going to be adopted.

No one wants to adopt a mute girl.

Two years passed. I was sixteen now, Bea was thirteen. I still lived with Rumplestiltskin and Bea, quite happily in fact. But bad things were happening. The Orge Wars still loomed over everyone, and the age of the children going into fight was lowering everyday. I was safe, Rumple had told everyone that I was a maid, so they couldn't take me for the war. But the truth was, a year ago we had spoken, and had come to an agreement:

"Trista," he called to me one day while I was playing with Bae outside one day, "may I speak to you?"

I smiled at Bae. "I'll be right back," I promised. He nodded and continued playing. I came inside to see Rumplestiltskin sitting at the table. He smiled.

"Come and sit," he invited. I smiled a little and sat beside him.

"Is everything alright?" I had asked. He chuckled and nodded.

"Fine. Listen, Trista," he hesitated, biting his lip, "are you… happy here?"

I was taken by surprise. "Of course," I had said. He had smiled even wider.

"I was just thinking that… you've been with us for a while now… so I feel that if you wanted, you could maybe call me father if you wanted," he had said slowly, as if I had been a bomb he had to be careful with. I gasped and my eyes filled with tears. My heart was warmed.

"I would like that," I whispered. He smiled, and his own eyes had filled with tears. He cleared his throat and looked at the door.

"You can go back out now, Bae if probably waiting for you," he said. I nodded.

"Thank you," I had smiled, "Father."

Rumplestiltskin, my father, smiled. Suddenly, Bae ran in.

"Papa! Trista! They're come for Morraine!" he exclaimed. I gasped and father grabbed his cane. We rushed outside. Then we saw it.

Morraine was screaming as the guards were taking her away. The parents were begging Hordor, the head guard, to give her back.

"It's a mistake! She's only fourteen! ONLY FOURTEEN!" Her father yelled.

"AT THE ORDERS OF THE DUKE!" Hordor yelled, "The Ogre Wars have taken their toll this season. More troops will turn the tie."

"They've lowered the age again," Bar whispered. I touched his arm, afraid for him.

My father looked terrified. "I know," he whispered.

Suddenly the woman lunged at Hordor with a knife. I gasped. But before the woman could even touch him, both parents collapsed, chocking. I almost ran forward to help them but my father grabbed my arm to stop me. I looked over and saw a cloaked figure. The Dark One. It must have been him choosing the parents.

"The Dark One seems to think I can," Hordor said snidely.

Suddenly, Hordor waved his hand, and The Dark One stopped. A few guards took the parents and lead them away, still sobbing and screaming. Then Hordor noticed us. He rode over to us. Morraine was crying, sitting behind him on the horse.

"How old is the girl? She must be at least sixteen. We need her for the army," Hordor said, looking me over. Bae grabbed my other arm, as if doing so would protect me. My father looked mortified. He took a shaky breath, then spoke.

"She-she's our maid, sir," he studdered. Hordor raises his eyebrows.

"Is she? Well girl, is that true? Are you a maid?" he asked me. I looked down and said nothing. Two guards dismounted their horses and stormed over to us. They grabbed both my arms. I struggled in alarm but they held their grip. I looked at my father desperately, but he looked helpless. Suddenly Bar ran forward.

"No! It's true!" He yelled, "She's mute and deaf and would be no use to you in the army!"

I realized what he was doing and tried to look as confused as possible, like I couldn't hear what anyone was saying. Hordor seemed to consider this for a moment, then nodded at his troops. They shoved me back over to Bae and my father, and turned and rode off. I stumbled to the ground and my father and Bae helped me up. Father, looking as though he was going to cry, was blubbering apologies.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do, please forgive me," he whispered. I turned and hugged him. He sighed in releif. I then turned and hugged Bae.

"You saved me," I whispered, pulling away to look at him. Bae smiled. But soon his smile turned into a frown.

"My birthdays in three days. They'll come for me in three days," he said worriedly. My father took his hand.

"It will be okay," he whispered softly, "We'll find a way. I promise."

"They're going to take me away, aren't they?" Bae suddenly blurted later that day when father was out selling wool. I was preparing dinner, and Bae was sitting at the table. I stopped chopping carrot and looked at him. I set the knife down and sat across from him.

"Only through my dead body," I said, looking straight into his eyes.

"No, you can't protect me because if you do then they'll realize that your not a maid and take you to," he said, looking serious. I managed a weak smile.

"If I had to go to war so you could be home safe, I would do it in a heartbeat," I said, reaching across and taking his hands. Bae looked down for a moment, then looked back at me.

"Maybe I should go and fight. I would be protecting my people, and it's an honorable job," he said. I closed my eyes, trying to figure out what to say.

"You're right," I said at last, "it is a very honorable work. Noble, brave, and not for a fourteen year old boy. When you get older, then it would be wonderful if you wanted to fight. But you're still a child, as am I, and war is not for children."

I stood up and went back to chopping the carrots. Bae was looking at his hands. It was quiet for several minutes, then Bae suddenly said:

"What happened to your Mama and Papa?" I stopped chopping for a split second, taken by surprise. Then I continued.

"Papa's at the market," I said lightly, though I knew that that was not what he meant.

"No, your real ones," Bae said, sounding curious.

"No. They may have given me life, but the doesn't make them my Mama and Papa," I said. Bae pondered this.

"Then what does?" He asked, seeming to not know what I meant. I turned and looked at him, smiling.

"In order to earn the title of a mother and father, then they need to be there for their child. Raise him or her, love them, and take care of them," I turned back and kept chopping. "My parents did none of those things. They sold me into slavery, didn't even have the care to name me," I said, chopping faster and faster. Bae came over and stopped me.

"Your going to hurt the carrots," he joked, taking the knife from me. I smiled. We were quiet for a moment.

"So who named you?" Bae finally asked. My smile became sad.

"A boy named Chase," I said sadly. Bae looked interested. I turned away and sat down. I didn't like to talk about Chase, I didn't even like thinking about him. It hurt too much.

"Did you love him?" Bae asked. I nodded.

"He sacrificed himself for me," I said. Bae nodded, but seemed to sense that I didn't want to talk about it.

Father soon came home and we had dinner. We didn't speak much during the meal, and I was glad. My thoughts would only focus on one person.

Chase.


End file.
